


Favourable Reactions

by RosieRivendell



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: College AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Techienician
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieRivendell/pseuds/RosieRivendell
Summary: Matt's twenty-two, and is trying his luck at a chemistry degree, after switching degrees twice.Running late for his first laboratory session of the year, he is put with Techie as a partner for his chemistry lab. Techie's really weird, and nervous, and what the hell is up with his eyes? Matt just wants to pass this course, and can't afford any sort of stuff ups. Which is justgreat, because Techie is so damndistracting!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Back at it again with my favourite ship. I hope the chemistry all makes sense, but it isn't pivotal so don't worry if you aren't getting all the details! Thanks for reading, and feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://rosierivendell.tumblr.com/) about anything Techienician!
> 
> Also! Important to note that university in Australia (where I live) can be very different to university in other parts of the world. I've tried to make it ambiguously located, but if something is unfamiliar, just roll with it, or ask me!

Matt rushes into the chemistry laboratory, slightly out of breath from sprinting up three flights of stairs. He’s late to the first practical lab class of the term, after athletics training took longer than he had anticipated. He hasn’t had time to change and shower, so he’s still in his gym gear, and pretty sweaty, can feel the curls sticking to the back of his neck.

 

Attendance at weekly chemistry labs is compulsory for second year students of Hosnian State University, and excuses short of ‘I am genuinely dying, here is a medical certificate to prove it,’ are not accepted. The labs go for a few hours, taking up most of the afternoon. Matt’s already exhausted from staying up too late playing video games in his dorm room, and all he really wants at this point is a nap - not to be fretting about chromatography columns, or percentage yields. He’s already dreading the full lab report he’ll have to write up afterwards.

 

When he finally makes it into the lab, hastily rucking on his white lab coat over his gym shirt, and pushing his safety goggles over the top of his already thick glasses, most of the places at the long lab benches are filled.

 

The chemistry laboratories are huge window lined rooms, filled with long benches of students. A few years ago, Hosnian State had received several million dollars of funding from Senator Snoke to improve their science laboratories, so these labs are brand new, state-of-the-art. Each bench of about fifteen students has a supervisor, to make sure no one breathes in toxic fumes or does anything life-threateningly stupid.

 

‘Matt, you’re late! There’s only one spot left at bench two.’ One of the lab supervisors berates him. Matt puffs out a surly ‘sorry,’ scooting over to bench two before he can get in more trouble. 

 

Thanisson is the bench two supervisor, and Matt fucking hates him. Thanisson has always been a full-of-himself dickhead, and has always loved to mock Matt about the fact that he’s twenty-two years old, and still doing second year courses. Matt had dropped out of engineering, computer science, and now, four years after starting university, he’s doing chemistry - and Thanisson never lets him forget it. And now Thanisson’s going to be marking his lab reports, and it’s gonna be fucking awful.

 

Matt searches up the bench, looking for the spare space the supervisor had indicated.

 

‘Yeah, the space next to Madrigal there! You two can be lab partners.’ Thanisson calls to him, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

Fuck, he wishes he had been early for the day that they choose their lab partners for the term. Whoever he gets today he’ll have to work with each week for the next ten weeks.

 

Last term, Matt’s lab partner Mitaka had been fucking useless, always knocking over beakers, throwing away the wrong residues, not remembering how much starting material he had weighed, simpering and nervous all the time. Matt had yelled at him more times than he can remember, one particularly memorable time he’d threatened to pour nitric acid down Mitaka’s throat if he didn’t just _pull it together._

 

He should have tried to get next to Kylo Ren. Maybe they could have been lab partners. Matt’s not sure whether his admiration for Kylo is sexual or not, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind taking Kylo’s dick down his throat if Kylo wanted. Not that Kylo’s ever given him a second glance, except for that one time he actually grunted _‘hey’_ in Matt’s direction. Matt thinks it must have been a trick of the light, the sun in Kylo’s eyes, that had made him mistake Matt for someone else. Matt can see the object of his fixation on the other side of the lab, long dark hair tied up, looking amazing in a way Matt could only dream of, talking and laughing with that stuck-up asshole Hux. Matt’s mood darkens even more.

 

Matt drags his feet as he walks to the empty space between two students. The pretty brunette girl on his right is obviously already chatting and working with her partner. So ‘Madrigal’ must be… Matt turns to his left.

 

‘Madrigal’, his new lab partner seems to be torn between staring right at Matt, and simultaneously avoiding Matt’s gaze at all costs, huge blue eyes skittering between Matt, his hands fisted in his lap, the floor, back to Matt, back to the floor... Refusing to look Matt in the eyes, he instead settles for staring somewhere in the region of Matt’s chest. Another nervous type, then, like Mitaka had been. Fuck.

 

The weird kid is about Matt’s height, but seems slighter, lank ginger hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and he appears to be drowning in his white lab coat which is much too big for him. He’s had to roll the sleeves up lots, so they’re all bunched up at the cuffs. He looks pretty ridiculous, Matt thinks.

 

Matt knows he’s acting rude, but he can’t help but thump his heavy textbook and manual down on the bench, causing the ginger to audibly flinch.

 

‘I’m Matt,’ he says, throwing his partner the most indifferent cursory glance he can manage, opening his lab manual with unnecessary aggression, almost ripping the pages from the binding.

 

‘Oh, I’m, um, I’m Techie,’ the kid says, fingers twisting in the huge sleeve of his lab coat, ‘Sorry, um, I don’t know why-- I mean, normally I’m paired with my brother, but he’s gone with his, um, his new boyfriend so, I--’

 

Matt turns his head so fast he almost gets whiplash, looks over Techie properly now. Ginger hair… blue eyes… Surely not.

 

‘Who’s your brother?’ Matt asks sharply, making Techie wince.

 

‘Um, he’s my half-brother. Hux, Armitage Hux. Different last names, obviously, um…’

 

‘You’re Hux’s brother?’ Matt says incredulous. Fuck, this day literally could not have gone any worse. If this weird Techie guy is half as annoying as Hux, Matt’s going to have a terrible time.  

 

Techie opens his mouth to answer, but the head lab supervisor starts talking over the speaker, briefing them on today’s isolation of lycopene from tomato paste. Matt doesn’t really listen, takes a moment to look over his new burden of a lab partner, who is nervously picking at his fingernails.

 

He notices the kid has red, bloodshot eyes. Matt would suspect he’s been smoking dope, but he doesn’t seem like the type. They seem more like irritated, like he’s allergic to something - surely the kid isn’t having a reaction to any of the chemicals in the lab? The jars and bottles in front of them are still firmly shut.

 

As well as the weird eyes, Matt can see that Techie has a smudge of pen on his forehead. Or is it maybe… a word? Matt can’t tell, even with his glasses on. He’ll mention it to Techie later.

 

The head lab supervisor drones on about how using a chromatography column, a long narrow glass tube, they can separate substances depending on their polarity. Matt doesn’t listen, it’s super basic chemistry stuff. Finally, the supervisor finishes wasting precious hands on time, and tells them they can begin the experiment.

 

‘Okay, you can do step one, the extraction, I’ll get started on setting up the chromatography column.’ Matt says, gesturing to the open pages of the lab manual. He turns away to straighten the retort stand, grabbing the nearest jar of alumina to start filling the glass column. He’s tasked Techie with a simple ethanol extraction, but Techie’s already looking overwhelmed, staring nervously over at the weigh scales clutching his little tub of tomato paste in tight fingers. Matt can’t figure out why it’s taking him so long.

 

‘Are you gonna get started anytime soon?’ Matt says, adding the dichloromethane in petroleum to his column. His words come out harshly, and he feels a little guilty. His therapist always tells him he should work on his patience. But now he’s been lumped with a hopeless lab partner, which could seriously affect his grade for this semester. ‘Techie?’ he says, trying to inject a little more concern into his tone.

 

‘Shit, sorry, it’s just-- the weigh scale area is really busy, I wouldn’t like to-- bump into anyone, it’s just-- fuck I hate touching people.’ Techie says, fidgeting with the top on the little jar of home-brand tomato paste they are supposed to be extracting.

 

Matt looks up at the bench where the weigh scales are located; it is pretty busy. The whole of the lab class has to begin by weighing out their tomato paste sample, so pretty much everyone in the lab is queuing to use the scales.

 

‘It’s fine, just give it here.’ Matt says sharply, grabbing the jar and spatula from Techie’s hands. ‘Just finish up preparing the column, it needs more eluent added.’

 

Matt marches over to the weigh scales bench. People generally give him a wide berth, especially today when he’s giving off such irritated vibes. He throws a few menacing looks, and gets to the front of a queue straight away. He aggressively spoons out 8 grams of tomato paste into a beaker, fist wrapped around the flimsy metal spatula, nearly knocking a chip in the side of the glass with his efforts.

 

When he’s finished weighing out his sample, Matt turns back towards his bench, nearly knocking over someone standing right next to him. He goes to mutter a hasty _‘_ sorry’, only to find it was _fucking_ Hux he almost bowled over, glaring at him. Despite being about 50 pounds smaller than Matt, Hux grabs his forearm, fingers digging tight into the lab coat covered flesh of Matt’s arm.

 

‘Now I don’t know who you are, and I don’t really care,’ Hux sneers up at him, ‘but I see you’re working with my brother. You had better be nice to him, or I’ll poison you, and I mean it. Do I make myself clear?’

 

Matt pulls his arm from Hux’s vice-like grip, nearly tearing muscle in the process. ‘If you care so much,’ he bites back at Hux, ‘then why did you abandon him to work with your boyfriend? Not much of a _fucking_ good older brother.’

 

Hux actually looks vaguely hurt, and his wounded expression reminds Matt of Techie’s sad little face. Matt’s tempted to pour the remaining tomato paste down Hux’s front in retaliation, but he’s aware that Kylo might be watching, and he doesn’t want to look petty. He instead tries to focus on not snapping the glass beaker between his angry, shaking fingers.

 

Once he gets back to the bench, Techie’s finished setting up the column, and it actually looks okay. Matt gets to work on the extraction, setting up a vacuum filtration, and then a gravity filtration. Techie watches on, having finished the column, waiting for Matt to prepare the extract to run through the column.

 

Techie doesn’t seem to be aware of the altercation between Matt and his brother, he possibly hadn’t been looking. Matt decides not to mention it to him; but he’s not sure why. His still vaguely stung that Hux would feel that he had to approach him, just because he’s big, and grumpy, and prone to angry outbursts…

 

After Matt’s finished the filtration, and is left with translucent red tomato-y liquid in the bottom of his beaker, it has to evaporate in the fumehood for ten minutes. Which means ten minutes of the two of them sitting and waiting together. Matt’s never been sociable, or particularly good with people, but fuck if his people skills aren’t better than Techie’s.

 

They sit in awkward silence for the first five minutes, until Matt can’t stand Techie staring at him wordlessly any longer.

 

‘So what’s the deal with your eyes?’ He asks bluntly, curiosity overriding manners. He knows it’s kinda rude to make comments about people’s appearance, but if Techie’s having a reaction to something in the lab, Matt probably needs to know.

 

Techie’s shoulders curl in, and he goes to rub at his sore looking eyelids instinctively, bring a blue plastic gloved hand up towards his face. Matt has to grab his hand firmly around his wrist to stop him just in time.

 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Matt hisses. ‘You could have any sort of chemical on your hands! Don’t ever touch your eyes in the lab!’

 

Techie looks truly frightened, watery blue eyes wide and confused, finally staring Matt straight in the eye. After a moment he realizes what Matt was doing. ‘Fuck I-- I’m sorry, they just itch all the time, it’s like a habit. Shit, I mean-- thanks.’

 

Matt loosens his grip on Techie’s wrist, and watches Techie rub the blood back into his hand. Shit, he hadn’t realised he was holding that tightly. He should apologise, but the words get stuck in his throat.

 

‘It’s just hayfever,’ Techie says. ‘I get it all the time, like, even when it’s not Spring.’

 

‘Oh,’ Matt says. ‘That must get pretty rough when it is Spring then.’ He feels compelled to make conversation, to prove Hux wrong that he couldn’t be _nice._ He could be nice. Nicer.

 

Techie nods. ‘Yeah, I, um, I basically can’t leave my flat. I just stay home and space out on decongestants.’ He gives a little smile, but it sounds pretty miserable to Matt.

 

‘Your flat? You don’t live on campus, in college?’ Matt says, wanting to change the topic. The thought of Techie having to spend months inside by himself, red eyes all watery, sneezing all over the place, is kind of sad.

 

‘Uh, yeah, it’s just a little place in the city.’ Techie says.

 

‘Wow, that must cost a shit ton of money,’ Matt replies. His mom helps pay for his dingy little dorm room, but Matt still has to put forward a fair bit of his weekly pay for it. The city is close to the university, only a few minutes walk.

 

‘My dad, um, helps pay for it,’ Techie says sheepishly. ‘I know it’s super extravagant, but I-- I’m really bad with people. You might have noticed,’ he says, giving Matt a small smile again, although he still doesn’t manage eye contact.

 

‘No it’s--’ Matt feels a need to disagree with Techie, but he is kind of right, he is terrible with people. ‘Um, well people can be pretty shit sometimes.’

 

Their solvent evaporates after a few more minutes, they’re left with their dried out residue, and they continue the rest of the experiment. Their column runs fine, and they get a reasonable amount of lycopene extract. Afterwards, Matt cleans the glassware while Techie runs the UV analysis.

 

Once they’re all tidied up, they convene back at their bench space. Techie’s hair has come partially undone from his hair band, stringy bits of hair coming loose around his neck and ears. Matt can’t help reflect on how different Techie appears from his pain-in-the-ass half brother. Hux is always neatly dressed and presented, hair slicked back with gel that Matt thinks makes him look forty years old, and carries himself with a cool sort of confidence. Fucking _ice princess,_ Matt thinks.

 

Techie is significantly more bedraggled; greasy-haired, and nervous. They’ve taken their lab coats off now, Matt can see that Techie’s wearing a threadbare, yellow long-sleeved shirt. It looks like Techie’s slept in it for days, the neck all loose and frayed.

 

‘So, um, can I add you on facebook? It’s just so you can send me the results from the UV analysis?’ Matt asks, fiddling with the binding on his book. He needs the photo Techie would have taken of their UV analysis for his lab report. He’s not sure why he felt the need to specify aloud though. It was kind of a dick move.

 

‘Oh, um, yeah, sure, of course.’ Techie says. ‘It’s Techie Madrigal, um, obviously. I don’t think anyone else would have that name.’

 

‘Okay, um, cool. Oh, also, you have pen on your face, like-- here’ Matt gestures to his own forehead, near the spot that Techie has the blue smudge.

 

Techie’s hand flies to his face, and he blushes furiously. ‘Oh, um, oh yeah, thanks. I’ll-- I’ve got to go now!’ Techie practically _runs_ from the lab, in the strangest running style Matt has ever seen, legs all stiff and ungainly.  It’d almost be funny, but on Techie it’s just pathetic, and makes Matt feel sad.

 

If he’d thought about it longer, Matt might have wondered why Techie knew _exactly_ which spot on his face to find the pen smudge. But Matt didn’t; he was too preoccupied with thoughts of getting back to his little dorm room, having the longest, hottest shower ever, and eating ramen and playing video games until he falls asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow a second chapter and they haven't gotten in each other's pants yet -- am I ill or something? The answer is no! I'm just tryna be restrained and realistic, something which has evaded me before. There will be sexy times in the future tho, trust me!!
> 
> Thanks for reading :))

Matt’s actually on time for the chemistry lab today, so he’s not in sweaty gym clothes, having had time to shower and change after athletics training. His unruly hair is still a little damp from his shower, and he tries to fluff up his curls as he walks up the stairs to the laboratory.

 

He hasn’t spoken to Techie since their last lab; Techie never seems to make an appearance in lectures. Matt assumes that Techie must listen to the online lecture recordings at home. The only communication they’ve had since last week was when Techie sent him the image of their UV analysis graph with no accompanying message. Matt had replied ‘thanks,’ the little ‘seen at 9:47pm’ notification had popped up, and that was the end of it.

 

Matt had a good search of Techie’s Facebook profile once Techie had accepted his friend request. Techie had a measly eight friends on Facebook, one of which was Hux, another which was Matt. His profile yielded very little information; the picture was a photo of an animated ginger-headed video game character.

 

Techie never seemed to post on Facebook, the only clear photo Matt managed to find was an image Hux had posted earlier in the year. ‘Happy birthday to my little brother! Enjoy your last year being an unruly teenager!’ which Matt assumed meant Techie was nineteen years old. The photo showed the two brothers next to one another, arms around each other’s shoulders; Hux very smartly dressed, uncharacteristically smiling at the camera. Techie too was smiling, but he looked uncomfortable being photographed, and his gaze was sideways, looking down at his slightly shorter, slightly older brother, as though looking for approval.

 

Matt had zoomed in on Techie’s face, stared at it for an unusually long time. Zoomed in this far, Techie’s face was pixelated without much detail, and half turned away. After staring at it for a minute, Matt started to feel weird, like he was stalking Techie, or invading his privacy, and closed the tab and deleted the search history, which just made him feel more like a pervert than before. He hoped it wouldn’t show on his face today.

 

He spots Techie across the lab as soon as he walks in, even when his copper coloured hair is greasy and dull. Matt’s not sure he noticed last lab how tall Techie is; he stands well above the rest of their cohort, even though Techie tends to slump his shoulders. He supposes from his perspective Techie seems like average height. It’s actually kind of nice not to be looking down to talk all the time.

 

As he walks past the end of bench two, he shoots Thanisson a dirty look; the dickhead had given Matt a credit on his last lab report, had the balls to deduct six whole marks for putting incorrect units for UV absorbance. Thanisson just smirks back at Matt, which makes Matt want to punch the stupid expression off his face.

 

Matt makes his way over to his and Techie’s bench space.

 

‘Hey,’ Matt grunts over at Techie, pulling his manual from his bag.

 

‘Oh, hi,’ Techie says, nervously pushing his safety goggles up the bridge of his nose, leaving a finger smudge right in the middle of the lenses.

 

Matt feels he should make conversation, ask about Techie’s weekend or whatever is polite to do, but he’s trying not to look too much at Techie, lest remnants of his late night Facebook stalking be evident on his face. Also, Matt’s always been terrible at small talk; he’d rather not embarrass himself.

 

Today they are supposed to be synthesising benzocaine, a topical anaesthetic. It seems pretty straight forward, they need to replace a carboxylic acid substituent on aminobenze acid with an ester substituent via a Fischer esterification.

 

Matt glances at Techie from the corner of his eye while the supervisor is going over some safety information. Techie’s billowing white lab coat looks just as silly as last time, all bunched up around his shoulders and middle. When his gaze lands on Techie’s face, he notices a patch of Techie’s skin on his forehead looks kind of weird coloured, slightly darker than the surrounding skin. It almost looks like… makeup?

 

He’s curious to know why Techie has makeup on his forehead, but knows his questions about Techie’s eyes last week made him self-conscious, so he decides to not mention it. He knows what it’s like to have people point out his appearance; all through high school Matt had been teased for having big ears and nose, and for his thick ugly glasses. It had only stopped when he had grow big enough to punch the lights out of anyone who dared comment.

 

Their experiment starts off straight forward enough; they complete their acid reflux successfully, and gather a nice amount of solution in their flask. As per the instructions, Matt adds some sodium carbonate, gradually making the solution more and more basic. Adding ether forms an ester group on their molecule, then they just need to separate their oily looking benzocaine from the aqueous solution in a separating funnel.

 

In fact, it all goes just swimmingly, which should have been a big red warning sign for Matt because nothing in his life ever goes right.

 

Because after two and a half hours into the lab, as Matt is walking with their beautiful oily solution in a little glass flask over to the hot plate to crystallise, his foot collides with something that makes him falter and trip, sprawling his huge body on the floor and sending the little flask with the product of their hours of work crashing to the ground.

 

The flask shatters loudly, bring silence over all the student in the lab, who all turn to look at Matt on the ground, surrounded by his ruined solution.

 

Matt wants to fucking cry, curl up in a ball on the floor of the lab and just bawl. He’s totally destroyed hours of work in seconds. He clambers forward on his elbows, trying to pick up the little pieces of glass, managing to cut little slices into his fingertips with the shatters of flask.

 

He can’t believe he tripped, he was sure there was nothing on the ground in front of him, even though he’s been known to trip over his own feet. It was different this time, it was like… he looks back at the spot where he fell, and his eyes carry to the nearest person. Thanisson is standing at the edge of the bench, grinning down at Matt. He’s in perfect position to have stuck his foot out, tripped Matt. In fact, now he thinks about it, Matt is almost sure he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye…

 

Matt hauls himself to his feet, and rounds on Thanisson.

 

‘You fucking bastard, you tripped me!’ he yells, grabbing Thanisson’s lab coat by the neck. Thanisson’s smug expression turns to panic and Matt lifts him from the ground, gets right up in his face.

 

‘I’ll fucking kill you,’ Matt shouts, hands dripping a mixture of oil solution and blood down Thanisson’s crisp white lab coat.

 

Within seconds, the head supervisor is on them, pulling Matt back from Thanisson. Matt releases him roughly, hands shaking with anger.

 

‘What the hell is going on here?’ The supervisor says. ‘Matt, you’re seriously out of line here--’

 

‘He tripped me over, sir,’ Matt insists, tempted to go back in for a punch; it might be his last opportunity.

 

‘That’s an extraordinary claim Matt. Thomas is an employee of the university, I’m sure he would never deliberately sabotage another student’s work--’

 

 Of course he would take Thanisson’s side…

 

‘I saw him do it,’ a deep voice interjects from over Matt’s shoulder. Matt turns, jaw almost dropping to the floor to see who is standing up for him.

 

‘I saw him trip Matt. Stuck his foot out purposely as he walked past with his sample.’ Kylo Ren says, stepping closer to Matt and the carnage he has created.

 

The whole lab is still quiet, watching the proceedings unfold. Matt looks over to where Techie is, feeling so guilty for ruining Techie’s hard work, but Techie is just staring down at the table, like he’s trying to pretend nothing is happening.

 

The supervisor looks lost for words, while Thanisson looks like he might be sick. He obviously didn’t account for Matt having any friends to back him up. Not that Kylo probably counts Matt as a friend. In fact, Matt didn’t even know Kylo knew who he was.

 

‘Well I-- We will continue this tomorrow morning,’ the supervisor says. ‘We have disrupted the rest of the class long enough. Matt, I’m afraid your sample is not retrievable, you and your partner will have to come back another time to redo the lab.’

 

Laboratory technicians have already scurried over, started mopping up the oily substance that is now smeared over the floor, mingled with a few splatters of Matt’s blood. Matt turns to thank Kylo, but he’s already sauntered back over to Hux, who had been watching the events with an ice cold glare on his face. He’s probably angry at Matt for ruining his precious brother’s experiment.

 

Matt feels pleased that Kylo, who he’s had a crush on for months, knows his name and stuck up for him. But as he walks towards Techie, Matt’s pleasure is overridden by guilt for destroying the fruits of their labour. Techie is still staring insistently at the bench top. Matt can see his hands are shaking slightly.

 

‘Techie,’ Matt says, as softly as he can. ‘Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I feel terrible.’ He’s not sure how Techie will react, but at the moment he looks close to tears.

 

But Techie turns towards him, offers him a half-smile, watery eyes not quite making Matt’s.

 

‘It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,’ he says quietly. ‘Let’s just pack up and--’ Techie’s eyes stray to Matt’s hand, cradled against his chest, ‘--are you bleeding?’

 

Matt looks down at his stinging hand. It’s actually worse than he thought. Nothing too deep, but some definite cuts where he had tried in vain to salvage their work.

 

‘Uh--’ he starts.

 

‘I have first aid stuff in my bag. Come on and we can get you cleaned up,’ Techie says, ushering Matt towards the bathrooms.

 

They shrug off their lab coats as they go, not allowed to wear them outside the labs lest they carry contaminates. They’re allowed to take off their safety glasses too, which Matt rejoices for, as his safety glasses make his seeing glasses dig into the sides of his head.

 

Matt feels strange following Techie into the men’s toilets, as though they’re about to do something illicit. Techie props his worn canvas backpack on the bench by the sink, rustling through the contents. Matt stands a little way away.

 

Techie looks different without being swarmed by his lab coat. He’s actually… bigger than Matt expected. Techie’s nervous demeanour suggested he’d be delicate all over, but he’s kind of -- solid. Which makes sense, Matt supposes, considering his height. The harsh fluorescent lighting of the bathroom makes Techie’s skin look even paler, and the orange smear of makeup on his forehead more prominent.

 

‘You should rinse your hands with water, and soap if you can handle it,’ Techie says, pulling out a little pouch from his bag. It’s a little plastic toilet bag, like a girl’s purse. If Techie’s bothered by the pink flowery design, he doesn’t appear so.

 

Matt washes his hands, with liberal soap, as though trying to prove to Techie’s he’s man enough to handle the pain. It actually stings a fuck load, but he just grimaces, keeps scrubbing.

 

‘Okay, dry them off, and come here,’ Techie directs, laying out plasters, and a little tube of antiseptic. Techie quickly washes his own hands too.

 

The scratchy paper hand towel hurts too against Matt’s sore hands, and his cuts continue to bleed insistently. When they’re dry enough, he steps closer to Techie.

 

Matt’s actually quite shocked when Techie takes one of Matt’s hands between his own, cradles it gently as he examines the damage. Techie had said he didn’t like touching people.

 

‘It doesn’t look too bad,’ Techie says, as though comforting Matt. Techie untwists the lid from the antiseptic, smears a liberal amount on the cuts on Matt’s right hand, before curling the plasters around Matt’s big fingers, covering the sliced up skin.

 

It’s almost a tender moment, even considering the smell of urinal cake that permeates the room. It’s the nicest anyone has been to Matt in a while, and he savours it. Techie’s hands are gentle on his, and he wraps the plasters not too tight, with practiced hands.

 

‘You should be a nurse,’ Matt says, his voice breaking the peaceful silence. ‘Or a doctor. You have-- a good bedside manner.’

 

Techie blushes up at Matt from where he is hunched over his patient’s hands, and shakes his head.

 

‘I don’t like hospitals,’ he says, smoothing down a plaster. ‘Or-- or upsetting things. Like, sick people. Sick children. You know.’

 

‘Where did you learn to treat cuts so well?’ Matt says, intending it to be an off-hand comment.

 

Techie freezes, hands stilled on Matt’s. Matt heart gives a nervous flutter as he tries to work out what he said wrong. But a moment later, Techie’s recovered, collecting up the discarded plaster wrappers and throwing them in the trash.

 

‘Basic first-aid,’ he mumbles, collecting up his little collection of medical supplies, haphazardly tossing the tubes, bandages and ointments back in his little pink purse. Matt looks down at his hands. Techie’s done a good job, the dressings feel secure, and there’s no blood bleeding through.

 

‘You should change the dressings tonight,’ Techie says, eyes on his bag as he repacks. ‘Do you have supplies in your room?’

 

‘Uh. Yeah,’ Matt says. He actually doesn’t but is embarrassed to tell Techie that he doesn’t have his shit together enough to buy things like plasters.

 

‘Is tomorrow good for you? To-- redo the lab?’ Matt asks.

 

Techie nods, ‘yeah, anytime.’

 

‘You don’t have class or something?’ Matt asks.

 

‘No, I-- I don’t go to class. I’d rather just listen to the recordings online.’ Techie says.

 

‘Oh. Why not?’ Matt asks.

 

Techie wrings his hands. ‘It’s just-- all those people, and you have to find somewhere to sit. And, if the lecturer asks you a question, and you have to talk in front of _everyone_ ,’ Techie actually shudders at that. He seems to be getting anxious just at the thought.

 

‘Oh, yeah. Fair enough.’ Matt says. He hates going to lecture too, but if he doesn’t go to class, he never listens to the online recordings, and he just falls behind. Better off just hauling his ass out of bed, and attending the lecture, even when he’s tired and grumpy. Techie really must spend heaps of time at home by himself, if he only comes into uni for compulsory things like chemistry labs. 

 

‘Listen, thanks for, um, patching up my hands. And-- I am sorry about ruining the lab.’

 

‘It’s okay,’ Techie says. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then?’

 

‘Tomorrow.’ Matt agrees.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year without updating!! Thanks to everyone who has left comments and words of encouragements. Hoping to get more actively back into my writing although uni is crazy atm.
> 
> Enjoy!!

The next day, they have the laboratory to themselves. Techie seems much more relaxed without one hundred other students there too. Techie even knows how to connect Matt’s phone to the loudspeaker, so they listen to music while they work - Matt’s favourite punk metal band. The weird orange patch of makeup on Techie’s head now is lighter, more fitting of his skin tone and not as noticeable. Matt doesn’t ponder on it.

 

They split the lab into halves, designating each other different parts. They’re quite busy, heads down working, until they’re reading to reflux their solution, keeping an eye on it until foggy condensation starts to form on the inside of the condenser.

 

Matts keeping an eye that their condensation on the outside of their condenser doesn’t build up; water drops into a hot silicon oil bath are very unpleasant. He pats at the outside of the glass tubing delicately with a folded piece of paper towel, willing his big hands not to do anything clumsy and ruin their experiment… again.

 

Both of them have to wait while the solution refluxes, sitting on swivel stool at their bench. Matt taps his fingers on the bench. Polite conversation has never been his forte, especially not with one so introverted as Techie. But he is curious…

 

“How much older is Hux than you?” Matt asks.

 

Techie gives a little smile. “Only a few months. But he’s acted middle aged since he was fifteen.”

 

“You must have been difficult to tell apart as kids, even if you’re only half siblings.”

 

“Oh, I-- we didn’t grow up together.” Techie looks uncomfortable, wrings his hands together.

 

“Oh, okay.” Matt’s fucked it up again, said the wrong thing. Fuck he should just give up trying to talk to people, ever.

 

Unexpectedly, Techie continues. “I lived with my… mother... for a while.”

 

“Oh. Sure.”

 

Techie seems like he wants to say something; keeps opening his mouth, before seeming to think better of it. Maybe he just doesn’t trust Matt enough.

 

Finally, he comes out with it, after fidgeting with his hair for a few minutes.

 

“That was nice of Kylo to stand up for you yesterday.”

 

“Oh yeah, to be honest, I didn’t even know he knew my name… How long has he and Hux been dating?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but Techie might actually know some good information about Kylo.

 

“Not long,” Techie gives a little smile. “But they’re inseparable… they’re like, soulmates or some shit, it’s-- it makes me feel a little sad to watch because…” Techie stops, like he’s realised he’s about to start opening up to Matt. “It’s stupid, forget it.”

 

“No tell me,” Matt says, sounding more forceful than he intended. “I mean, you can tell me, if you want, why it makes you sad.”

 

“It’s sad because-- I dunno, not sad, but it makes me wish for something like they have. I mean, Armitage hardly has time for me anymore…” Techie picks at a loose thread on the hem of his huge lab coat.

 

“That-- that must be tough.” Matt remembers the look on Techie’s face in the picture on his Facebook profile, of him looking down lovingly at his half brother. It must be shit if Hux is just with Kylo all the time now.

 

“Do you and your brother live together?” Matt asks.

 

Techie shakes his head sadly. “We used to, but not anymore. He just stays with Kylo now. Kylo’s place is small, and grubby, and they share a tiny double bed, but Armitage would rather… I mean. It’s no big deal, anyway. I’m fine on my own.”

 

Techie doesn’t seem fine about it. Matt pictures Hux and Kylo squeezed together in a little bed, having to curl up against one another. It feels voyeuristic, but can’t help feeling jealous. Mostly just jealous of Hux getting to sidle up to Kylo every night, but jealous as a whole. Imagine having someone, a soulmate, as Techie put it. Someone to be just yours, and no one else’s.

 

“What about you—your family?” Techie asks Matt. Matt shrugs in response.

 

“Nothing interesting. My parents are divorced, I used to live with my mom and older sister before I came here.”

 

“And you—get along? With your family?” Techie probes.

 

“Yeah, I mean we aren’t perfect.” Matt fiddles with the corner of his lab book, remembering the way his parents used to fight, how he used to get so _angry_ with his mom when he was a teenager, the time he tried to run away when he was fourteen only to get found a few hours later crying in a tree two streets away from home… “But yeah. I was a shit kid, but I appreciate my mom a lot more now. She has put up with a lot of shit, and is still amazing. My dad can be a bit of an asshole though. My sister though, she has always been great.”

 

Techie smiles. “That sounds nice.”

 

It goes much quicker than their first attempt yesterday, without other students in their way, or having to wait for equipment. In fact, they manage to collect their crystals in just under two hours, making up a modest sample of pretty, glistening crystals. They submit their sample, say goodbye, and Matt is walking back towards his college before the sun goes down. Matt is pleased by how well he and Techie got along today, despite some fucking awkward small talk. Hux’s distrust in Matt was totally displaced, look at him being all nice and shit.

 

A couple of hours later, Matt is just about to get into bed at 11pm when his phone rings. Strange, no one ever really calls him, especially this late at night. It might be his mom though, maybe something was wrong… He quickly hunts around, trying to locate his phone before the call ends, finding it in the back pocket of the jeans he had thrown on the floor when he had gotten home. The screen says:

 

_Techie Madrigal is Facebook calling you. Swipe to answer._

Matt’s shocked for a second, almost dropping the phone between big, fumbling fingers, before he comes to his senses and answers.

 

“Hello? ” he says breathlessly, half expecting Techie not to answer, that maybe it was an accidental call…

 

“Matt? Hello?” Techie’s voice is strained, and Matt hears a watery hiccup from the end of the line.

 

“Techie? What’s up? Are-- are you crying?” Matt asks.

 

“Matt, I-- I didn’t know who else to call, but- fuck it’s so s-stupid, but, I was supposed to be minding Armitage’s cat, and she’s _gone_ , and fuck he’s going to k-kill me, she’s just run off, oh god oh god…” Techie trails off into heaving breaths, as though he is on the verge of panic.

 

Techie’s words ‘ _I didn’t know who else to call’_ ring through Matt’s head. Matt’s never been anyone’s first choice in times of trouble. He would normally grumble at having to help other people, but Matt is suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to protect Techie. To comfort him.

 

“What’s your address, I’ll be right over,” Matt says, switching ears so he can pull on today’s jeans with one hand, sifting through the pile of clothes on his chair for a tee-shirt. He manages to find one crumpled one, which only smells faintly of sweat.

 

“Are you sure? You’re not b-busy? I know it’s so stupid, you must think I’m such an i-idiot--” Techie sniffles, voice cracking.

 

“No, it’s fine, just-- just try to calm down a bit, it’ll be fine. I’ll come over, we’ll look for her. She’s probably not gone very far,” Matt’s words aren’t based in fact, but they seem to soothe Techie a little bit.

 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a shuddery breath. “I’m at 4/52 Alderaan Gardens, that’s R, double A, N.”

 

Matt quickly puts Techie on speaker phone, types the address into maps on his phone. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Okay?”

 

“Y-yes, okay, fuck, thank you Matt, thank you…”

 

“Okay, see you soon.” Matt says, hanging up, before shoving his phone in his pocket, and pulling on his sneakers, and barging out the door. He has an old scooter motorbike in the college carpark downstairs. Matt has to pay more each week for the secure car spot, but it’s worth it for the convenience. Plus, he got the rusted and broken bike for free, and his mechanic cousin Rey fixed it up to road-worthy. It’s still a bit dodgy, the paint is peeling, and it makes a funny clunking noise. But it’s the best Matt can afford, and at times like these, it’s perfect.

 

Matt jams on his helmet, and kick starts the bike until it splutters to life. Alderaan Gardens is an expensive looking, low-set complex of leafy cream brick apartments. Number four is on the first floor, and Matt’s heavy footfalls echo through the stairwell as he rushes up the steps two at a time.

 

Matt knocks on Techie’s door, hurriedly mopping the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. Techie answers quickly, peeking round the door. When he opens it fully, Matt has to hold in a giggle – Techie’s wearing pirate pyjamas, decorated with little ships, and a tee-shirt with a skulls and crossbones stating ‘lazy bones’ across the chest. The pants are a little too short for his long legs, and the shirt is old and loose. When Techie realises what Matt is looking at, he blushes deeply. “Armitage bought them for me.”

 

Matt walks in the apartment. It’s dark inside, only a dim kitchen light is on, but it seems nice. It’s littered with the relics of a student, messy tangle of Xbox controllers, papers and books piled on the coffee table, glasses and mugs littering various surfaces, a chip packet on the sofa.

 

“Are you alright?” Matt asks. “How long has the cat been missing?”

Techie nods. “I’m fine, I guess. I only realised about half an hour ago, I thought she was just hiding, but she’s nowhere to be seen.” Techie’s chin is quivering, as though on the verge of tears again.

 

“And she’s definitely not in the flat? In a cupboard or something?” Matt asks.

 

Techie shakes his head. “I’ve searched everywhere, and the balcony window was open, she could have got out. I’m such a terrible person, I should have realised that she could escape, oh god, Armitage is going to kill me, what if she gets hit by a car?” Techie’s voice is getting more and more panicked. He’s started picking at already bloody cuticles, pacing around the lounge room.

 

“Cats are clever, she’ll be fine. Let’s go have a look outside.” Matt reassures, worried about how the hell Techie will cope if something bad has happened. He prays to whatever entity is up there that the cat is okay, for Techie’s sake.

 

Techie insists on Matt taking a pocketful of treats and a fluffy pink mouse on a string, which is apparently the cat’s favourite toy. Techie tells him, once they’ve left the flat. Techie’s outfit is hilarious, but Matt is trying to hold it in. He’d pulled a too-small yellow sweatshirt on over his baggy top, making the hem of the shirt fan out like a little tutu, and on his feet he’s wearing stripy toe socks and flip-flops.

 

“So she’s a ginger cat, and her name is Millicent.” Techie tells Matt on their way down the stairs. He nearly guffaws aloud in response.

 

“Hux has a _ginger_ cat, and her name is _Millicent_. Oh my god, this is just too good. Is she a little princess too?”

 

Techie lets out a little smile. “Yeah she is a princess. I was left very strict instructions about her eating and sleeping schedule.”

 

They make their way along the outside of the complex, clicking and cooing like madmen. Matt hopes no one calls the cops for two six-foot plus men rustling round the bushes outside their apartment. They search the complex and surrounding streets until both their phone flashlights have drained all their battery. Defeated, they head back to Techie’s, tired and drained. Techie is silent, and doesn’t look at Matt as they trudge back to his flat.

 

Just as Techie is unlocking his door, they’re both alerted by the sound of another door in the corridor opening. They both turn to see the noise. The door to number three opens, and out comes an old lady who couldn’t be much more than four foot tall, swaddled in a huge dressing gown. Her beads rattle round her neck, and her glasses magnify her eyes.

 

“Sorry Ms Kanata, we didn’t mean to wake you.” Techie says quietly.

 

“Are you two young men looking for a cat?” the old lady asks.

 

Techie whirls around. “I—yes, how did you--?”

 

A _meow_ from Ms Kanata’s feet has Matt and Techie almost squealing with excitement. “Millicent!” Techie exclaims, hurling himself to his knees to scoop up the evasive cat.

 

“Where did you find her?” He asks Ms Kanata.

 

“She was pawing at my window to get in! Must have jumped across from your balcony when you weren’t looking,” she smiles.

 

“I can’t believe it!” exclaims Techie, scooping up Millicent from where she has come into the corridor to investigate the fuss. “Thanks Ms Kanata, oh god, I was so worried.”

 

“I can’t believe she was in Maz’s the whole time!” They're back at Techie's now, and Techie’s on the sofa cuddling Millicent. “Naughty naughty girl!” He says, burying his face in Millicent’s thick ginger fur.

 

Techie looks the happiest Matt thinks he’s ever seen him, cooing and petting Hux’s fat, sassy cat. Millicent doesn’t seem too keen on Matt, but is lapping up the attention from Techie.

 

“Thanks for your help, Matt, I can’t even begin—You must think I’m an idiot.” Techie says, looking at the floor.

 

Matt sits next to him on the sofa, and Millicent darts away towards the kitchen in response. “No, Techie, I—There is no need to thank me.” In fact, Matt’s feeling quite good about himself, despite the late hour. Kind of like a knight in shining armour, coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress, with a happy ending. Matt blushes to himself, not _that kind_ of happy ending…

 

They’re sitting quite close on the soft cream sofa, looking at each other. Matt realises it’s silent, except for the tick of the kitchen clock, and the distant hum of water pipes. He could just lean in… He hadn’t kissed anyone in a little while, and Techie was looking at him like…

 

Techie looks away first. Matt should have expected he wouldn’t really be interested.

 

“How old are you?” asks Techie quietly.

 

“I’m twenty-two.”

 

“Oh. So why are you doing second year subjects?”

 

“I started with engineering, hated it, started computer science, didn’t mind that but didn’t really like it, and now I’m trying chemistry.” Matts says, hoping he doesn’t sound flaky.

 

“Oh, okay. I’m only nineteen.” Techie picks at a hole in his pirate-print pyjama pants, through which Matt can see a little circle of pale thigh with a dusting of translucent ginger hair.

 

Matt swallows, tries to look away from the little patch of skin. It’s probably just the tiredness, and the proximity, and the fact it’s been _ages_ since he’s been laid, but fuck that little glimpse of skin…

 

“I should be going,” Matt says, standing. “Lecture early tomorrow morning. You gonna go?”

 

Techie shakes his head. “Probably not. You know, crowds, people, finding where to sit, etc.” He says with a little wave of his hand.

 

“Oh.” Matt says. “Well, I mean. I would sit with you. If you… If that would help.”

 

Techie’s head jerks up, looking up at Matt from where he is perched still on the sofa. “That— I mean—you don’t have to.”

 

“No, I would—I would want to.” Matt says.

 

An awkward pause. Matt knows he’s come on too strong. He’s always too intense, too serious.

 

“Okay, night then.” Matt says, backing towards the door as quick as he can, not wanting to stay a moment longer and embarrass himself more in front of Techie. He grabs his helmet from the sideboard, jams it under his arm, out the door before he can say anything else.

 

On the ride back to campus, he realises how fucking tired he is, and collapses into his little unmade single bed as soon as he gets back. But he can’t help but go on Techie’s Facebook and look again at the only decent picture of Techie, the one from his birthday. Zooms in on Techie’s face, before feeling like a creep, throwing his phone on his bedside table, and going to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for comments and kudos on the last chapter! I read and adore every single one, even if I am total shit at replying. Thank you thank you thank you.

 

The next morning, Matt trudges into his nine am lecture, bleary eyed, and utterly unenthusiastic about chemistry. But he’s suddenly pulled from his half-asleep trance by a glimpse of long lank ginger hair on a fidgety head in the second from back row. Matt’s long distance eye sight is not that good, but is that…?

 

“Techie?” Matt says, sliding into the seat next to him.

 

Techie looks fidgety, and nervous, and he says in a hushed voice: “Thank God you’re here Matt, I thought you mightn’t come and I would have to leave...” He sighs and slumps back against the crappy old seats of the lecture hall.

 

“I can hardly believe you’re here. I didn’t think--” Matt says, hardly able to take his eyes off Techie, worried that this is all a dream and he’ll wake up back in his dorm bed, alarm blaring.

 

“Well, you said you would sit with me.” Techie says, matter-of-factly, tucking his hair behind his ear as he opens his notebook. His hands shake, but he seems to be calming down a bit now Matt is here. But then he says, nervously, “what do I do if the lecturer asks me a question?”

 

“He won’t, we are so far back” Matt says. “But if he does, I’ll cause a distraction. I dunno, make a loud noise. Start cawing like a bird or some shit.”

 

Techie smiles at that.

 

The lecturer beckons people’s attention, and the chitter-chatter of voices goes quiet. Today, they’re continuing to learn about carbonyl reactivity. Matt tries to take notes, but Techie is left-handed where Matt is right-handed, and he is consistently aware of their elbows gently nudging together as they take notes. Techie seems unawares, continuing to write in messy, slanted scrawl in his notebook. God, Matt thought his handwriting was bad, at least it’s legible. He doesn’t know how Techie deciphers his own notes.

 

Matt is acutely aware of Techie’s presence next to him, no matter how much he tries to focus on the lecture. Sitting side by side actually makes them very close to one another, especially when Techie’s elbow once again subconsciously nudges Matt’s forearm.

 

Techie’s not typically good-looking, not what Matt would have thought as his ‘type’. He’s kind of soft all over, not one for regular hair-washing, and his allergies make his eyes red and watery. But there’s something about Techie that’s making Matt feel—something. Maybe it’s just because he’s here, or because he’s the only person Matt can actually stand being around. Or because Matt is close enough to smell him, and he read once that pheromones or some shit can make people seem more attractive. He doesn’t really know, just that Techie smells nice, kind of soapy and sweaty, but it works. Or maybe he just gets off on his new-found protector role.

 

Either way, it’s a surprising new development.

 

The lecture ends sooner than Matt expected, probably because he had been wasting time staring at Techie out of the corner of his eye without being obvious. He looks down to realise he’s taken hardly any notes and hopes Techie hasn’t noticed how distracted he was.

 

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks Techie as they make their way out of the lecture hall.

 

Techie smiles. “No. And you didn’t even have to resort to bird calls.”

 

Outside in the quadrangle, in sun is shining through what had been a drizzly morning. Matt turns to Techie “Okay, well, I’ve got hockey training now… So I’ll see you in the lab tomorrow?”

 

“Uh, yeah sure.” Techie says, scratching at his neck. Matt goes to turn away. “I—wait, Matt. “Listen… you could. Come over sometime and we could work on our lab reports.” Techie says quickly.

 

“I—yeah, I would like that.” Matt says. Techie looks relieved, like he didn’t expect Matt to want to see him, when Matt had been trying not to get a little bit turned on by sitting next to him for an hour. “I’m free tonight?” he adds.

 

“Okay, well. I’ll see you then.” Techie says.

 

“Yeah, I’ll message you when I’m on the way.” Matt says. He gives a funny little salute goodbye, which makes his insides cringe, but it makes Techie crack a smile which is probably worth the embarrassment.

 

**

 

It took a few goes to get his motorbike started, and he had to double back to his halls when he had realised he’d forgotten his lab notes, but Matt had managed to make it to Techie’s front door by 7:30 pm. He knocks, and tries to look casual, do something normal with his hands, as he hears footsteps come to the door. Techie opens, peaks around the door.

 

“Hey,” Matt breathes.

 

“Hi,” Techie says, closing the door to remove the chain latch, before opening it wide. “Come in.”

 

It looks like Techie’s made an effort to tidy up the place; it’s neater than when Matt was here to rescue Millicent. There are no food packages or mugs on the coffee table, the Xbox cords have been stuffed under the TV unit.

 

“Um, we can study out here, if you want.” Techie says, gesturing to the lounge. “I—do you want a drink or something? I have Coke in the fridge.”

 

“Uh, yeah, Coke sounds good.” Matt sits on the couch, trying not to take up too much space.

 

“I, um—how was your day?” Techie asks, handing Matt a can of Coke, wet on the sides with condensation. Techie sits next to Matt on the sofa, picking at the bottom of his ratty yellow sweater. Matt almost wants to laugh at the awkwardness, but doesn’t, knowing how self-conscious Techie can be.

 

“Yeah, it was fine.” Matt replies. “Hockey training was intense, and then I had athletics straight afterwards. My quads are killing me.”

 

“Wow, you’re very sporty.” Techie says. “I am not—even remotely good at sports.” He says, with a small smile. “Except video games. Which could be technically classed as E-sports.”

 

“My therapist told me to do lots of sports. Helps with my anger problems.” Matt says, oversharing, as always.

 

“Oh. You-- you see a therapist?” Techie says. Matt hopes he hasn’t scared him.

 

“I used to, as a kid. I used to be such a shit kid, when I was like fourteen, fifteen. Just constantly angry. Therapy helped, and I haven’t been in a while.”

 

“Oh. Cool.” Techie says, looking to the side like he’s avoiding Matt’s gaze. Matt was always told as a kid that he looked too intensely, stared too much. In the light, something catches Matt’s eye, the bluish pen smudge he’s seen before.

 

“Hey, what’s with that pen mark again on your face?” Matt asks.

 

A pained look overtakes Techie’s face, and he jumps to his feet, startling Matt. “Oh no. I-I didn’t have time to cover it. Shit, don’t look, don’t look!” Techie cries, cupping his hand to his forehead. He looks on the verge of panic, turns away from Matt.

 

Shit shit shit. Why does he always say the wrong thing? Good for nothing piece of shit with a big mouth…

 

“Hey, Techie I-- it’s okay.” Matt says, standing up. Techie shrinks away, looking close to hysterics, and Matt curses his size, not for the first time. “Whatever it is, it’s alright, I’m pretty blind anyway. Shh, it’s okay. Just try and breathe.”

 

Matt directs Techie to sit back on the on the couch, sits down close next to him. “Shh, Techie, it’s okay, I won’t look.”

 

It’s things Matt’s heard said to _him_ over the years of his own anger attacks. Matt finds it normally helps when someone holds his hand, or rubs his back, but Techie’s said before he doesn’t like touching people, so Matt just hovers his hand near Techie’s shoulder. The worn curve of the sofa is already pushing them close, Matt’s thigh almost flush with Techie’s. He has to make an effort not to let them knock together.

 

“It’s-- It was a punishment.” Techie gasps, sucking in raspy breaths, still holding his hand over the funny blue smudge. “My Ma was a criminal, a drug pusher. She--” another raspy breath, “--they wanted to punish her for late repayments, so they-- they held me down and--” Techie’s eyes well with proper tears now, unable to hold back any longer, and he sniffs wetly. “It’s a t-tattoo.”

 

Matt’s stomach churns. A tattoo? On his face? And from what Techie’s saying, it sounds like it was some sort of fucked up punishment for his mom. Matt lets his hand touch Techie’s shoulder tentatively, and he doesn’t seem to flinch or pull away. He slowly rubs small circles into Techie’s bony shoulder blade through the soft, worn fabric of his hoodie.

 

Techie sucks in a shaky breath. “Sorry, you must think I’m so stupid, inviting you over and then f-freaking out and c-crying like this…”

 

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” Matt’s not good with words, never has been, but he tries to conjure up how to describe how he feels. “That’s awful, whatever happened to you. And you don’t deserve that sort of thing. But you’re safe now.” Matt says. “I-I’m so sorry I pointed it out.”

 

Techie sniffs, gives a little sad smile. “I tried to have it removed with laser but, God. It h-hurt. It was excruciating. More than getting it done in the first place. I normally just try to use makeup to cover it, but I’m- I’m not that good. Armitage was always much better than me at covering it.”

 

“Oh. I’ve never noticed the makeup before.” Matt says. It’s a white lie, and Matt’s always been a bit morally indifferent. That explains the funny orange patches Matt had seen on Techie forehead. But Techie seems to be calming down slightly and wipes the snot and tears on the sleeve of his sweater, removing his hand from his face in the process. Up this close, Matt can make out the shaking blue letters… _m a l e._

He tries not to picture Techie, young and scared, and getting held down while his face is drilled into with a tattoo gun. Tries not to imagine how terrified he must have been, and how hard it must be to see it in the mirror every day, a constant reminder of the event.

 

Tries not to think about the warmth of Techie’s back against his hand, or how he’s still trembling slightly with the in-take of each breath.

 

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told outside family.” Techie sniffs.

 

“I swear—I would _never_ tell anyone.” Matt says. He isn’t that good at keeping secrets, but God if he’ll keep this one…

 

“No, I know. I just mean, it feels good. To be able to tell someone else.” Techie says. Matt’s heart swells. “You must think I’m fucked up or something. Damaged goods.”

 

He’s overcome with the desire to kiss the tattoo smudge. To pull Techie tight into a hug. But it’s certainly not the time, nor place, and probably not something Techie would enjoy. It’s probably just the proximity, and the protector role Matt finds himself thrust not unwillingly into.

 

“We should--” Techie wipes his eyes. “We should study.”

 

Matt removes his hand, and the moment is gone. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

 

They work on their lab reports, crossed legged on the floor leaning on the low coffee table. It becomes apparent that Techie really is quite good at chemistry. He’s better than Matt in any case, and Matt starts to feel bad at how much Techie is helping him, and also for eating lots of the snacks Techie has put out.

 

“… yeah, so remember you need to protonate your carbonyl oxygen first to make the alpha-carbon more electrophilic.” Techie says, checking over Matt’s reaction mechanism.

 

“Fuck, yes, thanks. I always forget that step.” Matt says, taking to his paper with his eraser.

 

“I think that’s pretty much it then, your spectra assignment seems right. At least, it’s what I got too.” Techie says, chewing on the end of his pencil. Matt tries not to look at how makes his lower lip pout.

 

“Yeah, I think my report is done then.” Matt agrees. He stretches his legs out, which have been folded up for too long. Gives his aching quads a kneed.

 

“I don’t mind if you are tired and just want to go home but… we could play some Xbox if you want?” Techie says, hopefully. “I don’t often get to play with someone else. I mean—ever, really.”

 

Matt glances at the clock on the wall. He is tired, and it’s getting close to ten o’clock. But Xbox sounds fun, and he doesn’t really want to leave Techie’s nice apartment for his messy little dorm room. And Techie looks soft and inviting leaning up against the sofa, and Matt wants nothing more than to sit next to him while they play Xbox and let their shoulders touch…

 

“Yeah, sure, it’s not too late. What do you want to play?”

 

Techie grins. “Do you play Fortnite?”

 

Matt laughs. “Do I play Fortnite? I could not tell you the number of hours I have spent playing that instead of studying.”

 

“You’d better be good enough to be on my team, that’s all I’ll say.” Techie says, reaching forward to flash up the Xbox.

 

A quick twenty-minute game ascertains that Techie is not only good at chemistry, but also videogames. Matt dies embarrassingly early (“I swear, that never happens!”) in an attempt to impress Techie, after bravado turned to stupidity, and he got snipered by some ass-wipe called ‘YourMum69’.

 

Techie makes it to the top ten survivors, but gets done in by a grenade. Where Matt gets angry and swears, Techie seems to get insanely zen when he games. He doesn’t even curse when he gets killed.

 

The next game, Matt tries to be more strategic, and fares much better. Techie still out-lives him though, and it’s eleven-thirty before he realises that he is absolutely exhausted.

 

“Are my brilliant strats boring you?” Techie says, nudging him in the side with his elbow. Matt’s head is almost dozing on Techie’s shoulder, and he startles awake.

 

“Oh, sorry. Fuck, I’m tired. I should go.” Matt says, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms. He still needs to ride back to campus.

 

“You could—sleep on the couch. If you didn’t want to go back to your dorm.” Techie suggests, sounding like he’s trying to be nonchalant. But the way he’s back to pulling at loose threads on his sweater suggests otherwise.

 

Matt has to shake his head, although he’s really fucking tempted to accept the offer. “Thanks, but I have swim team early tomorrow morning and all my shit is back in my dorm. I—Otherwise—I would like to.”

 

“Oh, no worries,” says Techie, but he sounds disappointed. Matt is torn between feeling bad and feeling great that someone actually wants him to hang around for once.   

 

“I—tonight was fun. Thanks for all the help with the lab report.” Matt says. He often struggles to talk emotions, but he feels compelled to thank Techie for confiding in him earlier. “I—about earlier. You know I wouldn’t tell anyone stuff. Ever. And it was good. To, you know, let someone know.” Succinct as ever, but Techie nods, seeming to get the gist of Matt’s jumble words.

 

“Thanks,” Techie smiles. “Sorry for freaking out.”

 

“You don’t have to apologise.” Matt says. He gets up, goes and grabs his books, stuffs them indelicately into his scruffy old backpack. Picks up his jacket and helmet off of the sideboard. “I— See you tomorrow then. We have the lab.”

 

“Tomorrow,” Techie says.

 

Matt stuffs his helmet under his arm and manages to wrangle himself out Techie’s door. He closes it behind him with a loud _click_ of the lock, turns to go and is practically jumpscared by a tiny old lady in the corridor.

 

“ _Ah!_ Ms…” What had Techie called her? The lady who found Millicent? “Ms Kanata. Whew, sorry you scared me. I didn’t expect…”

 

Maz is standing in her doorway in a pink fluffy dressing gown, and a knowing smile on her face. Despite her lack of height, Matt feels pinned under her magnified, bug-eyed gaze. God, he hopes his eyesight doesn’t deteriorate anymore so he has to wear glasses as strong as Ms Kanata's. “He’s a very nice boy, that Techie.”

 

“I—” Matt is taken aback. “I know,” he answers, unsure of where this is going.

 

“Hmmm.” Maz says, “I think he’s quite fond of you.”

 

“I— Yeah we’re friends.” Matt says, defensively, despite what his mom said about always speaking respectfully to his elders. Is he about to get a ‘you had better be nice to him or else talk’ from a four-foot tell old lady?

 

But Maz doesn’t say anything, smiles and nods. “Goodnight Matthew. Safe travels on that bike of yours.” She closes her door behind her, beads rattling.

 

Matt is left alone in the corridor, unsure of what to make of the strange conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://rosierivendell.tumblr.com/)!!


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